When the creator's skill is priz'd,
The rest is all but earth disguis'd.
PLEASURE.
Hark how music then prepares,
For thy stay, these charming airs;
Which the posting winds recall,
And suspend the river's fall.
SOUL.
Had I but any time to lose,
On this I would it all dispose.
Cease Tempter. None can chain a mind,
Whom this sweet cordage cannot bind.
CHORUS.
Earth cannot shew so brave a sight,
As when a single Soul does fence
The batt'ry of alluring sense,
And Heaven views it with delight.
Then persevere; for still new charges sound;
And if thou overcom'st thou shalt be crown'd.
PLEASURE.
All that's costly, fair, and sweet,
Which scatteringly doth shine,
Shall within one beauty meet,
And she be only thine.
SOUL.
If things of sight such heavens be,
What heavens are those we cannot see?